I read somewhere that this was a melding of Jane Austen and J.R.R. Tolkien, which isn't a selling point for me. However, if I have been putting off thI read somewhere that this was a melding of Jane Austen and J.R.R. Tolkien, which isn't a selling point for me. However, if I have been putting off those authors because I think they seem boring, and they are half as inventive, witty, and well-drawn as this, then I have done myself a great disservice. Of course, I have read neither of those. Nor do I know much about what they write. I am not a huge fantasy fan, and I could not tell you what a comedy of manners is. So I have no real jumping-off point, but my own.I feel hard pressed to call this book epic, even if it takes place during England's war with Napoleon, has quite a bit of magic and fantasy, about 20 important characters that it spends plenty of time with, and is 800 pages long. No . . . what I enjoyed about it is not its epicness, but its lack of that. Instead I appreciated how complete it was. We get the complete history of the two title characters, but Clarke spends a good deal of time fleshing out more minor characters also. The reader can easily become invested in each and every person, even the more villainous ones, because they are completely 3-dimensional (and not in some gimmicky, James Cameron-y way.) In that same vein, she doesn't give the magic short-shrift. It feels organic and believable. The characters never use the magic to get them out of some sort of suspense-filled moment. Most of the magic is well-planned, researched, and comes with consequences both good and bad. Some of it is just plain beautiful, like when Clarke tells of Norrell creating ships out of rain to mystify the French military. Other times it is quite wicked, as in the story of Stephen Black's naming.I was also in awe of how historically accurate Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell seemed. That is not to say it is historically accurate. After all, magic was not used to defeat Napoleon. Was it? That's how it works too. When Strange or Norrell venture out of their drawing rooms or libraries, into 1800's England, one can't help but wonder, "Did this really happen?"...more

What is the What is one of those books that needs to be explained, reviewed, gushed over in vague, but glowing, buzzwords.

Fascinating.

Harrowing.

TouchWhat is the What is one of those books that needs to be explained, reviewed, gushed over in vague, but glowing, buzzwords.

Fascinating.

Harrowing.

Touching.

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius.

It is, indeed, all of these things. And hard to talk about without giving it those, and more, words of praise. None, however, quite capture it though.

What is the What is the fictionalized Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng, which causes for some early confusion. Valentino Achak Deng is, in fact, a real person, and the events in this book are, for the most part, real events. However, writer Dave Eggers has shortened timelines, moved events around, and added some literary license to make for a better story. But it’s hard to tell how much is Eggers and how much is Deng. The voice of the narrator is so complete, that it’s easy to buy this as just a straightforward autobiography. Things that I think of as being Eggers-y, sort of a postmodern clown who can add humor and insight to unbelievably sad occurrences, are here, but not in abundance. And even when they do show up, they don’t sound like Eggers. Maybe that’s how the two became friends, they share similar traits. Deng’s story is much sadder and horrific than Eggers’s (Eggers lost both his parents in a short period of time and then became the primary guardian of his 10-year old brother (a story he told in his acclaimed memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius.)) Even if it is Eggers’s influence, Deng tells his story of political unrest, violence, and displacement in his home country of Sudan to the culture shock of his move to the United States with more hope and humor than a soul-crushing sadness (which would have been easy, even understandable.)

Deng’s humor in the story isn’t one of naiveté either. He is, instead, capable of a subtle form of observational humor. And the book is an easier read because of this. Neither Deng nor Eggers want to have you bawl your eyes out; they don’t even seem to want anything from the reader. They just want Deng’s story, and all the Sudanese who Deng’s story stands in for, to be told. If it’s sad, then be sad. If it’s funny, then laugh. If it makes you outraged, then be outraged. But it doesn’t ask for you to be any of these things necessarily, it just has the power to illicit them. And that is the mark of solid storytelling....more

If you'd asked me 500 pages into this book what I thought of it, I'd have told you, "It started off slow, but now I think it is pretty dang awesome."If you'd asked me 500 pages into this book what I thought of it, I'd have told you, "It started off slow, but now I think it is pretty dang awesome." After that . . . nose dive into complete and utter unreadableness. I'd already committed myself to it though, so I slogged through it, especially the last 300 pages. It's really, really bad. First, Follett seems to recycle story-lines throughout. If something happens to a character around 200-400 pages in the book, chances are the same thing will be happening to their family or themselves around page 600-1000. William is raping his 400th (exaggeration) girl. Jack can't marry the love of his life because she is already married, much like Tom couldn't marry Jack's mother. I felt, often, that I had read the second half of this book already. There was very little to keep my interest. Maybe someone could argue Follett was just trying to show history repeating itself. However, I don't think he is that deep as an author. His story and characters are barely 2-dimensional, they scrape by. But the story is tight and compelling, that's why I was so into the first 500 pages. That all desperately unravels and Follett overstays his welcome. I think the big issue is this story is just too sprawling. Of course it takes a long time to build a cathedral, so the story should be epic. But just because a story is epic doesn't give it the right to be a total mess. There are few really interesting characters. Philip is far and away the most important, and the one with the most depth. Aliena is a close second, but it seems like she only shows up to prove the evilness or goodness of other characters. Waleran is shifty and clever, a great foil to Philip. Other interesting characters are Tom and Jack, but they are almost laughably 1-dimensional, that it is hard to ever truly care about them. And William Hamleigh, what a joke. He is so purely evil that he is neither menacing nor compelling. He always makes one decision, the terrible one. He isn't clever like Waleran. Instead, he is a brute, a bully, and a douche. I think we are supposed to hate him, but I just hated Follett for making him sooooo boring. The reason Philip is such a great character is because he is not pure good, he has trouble making the right decision, and some times he makes questionable moral decisions. William is just a dick. Speaking of which, does there have to be so many rape scenes. The first one is brutal and emotionally devastating. The second proves he is evil. By the third and fourth rape it has just become gratuitous. When he was finally hung, even that wasn't satisfying. Maybe if he'd been more conniving or clever, instead of just plain evil, I'd have cheered or felt something. All I felt was a shoulder shrug and a "Well, serves him right." And c'mon the assisination plot of Thomas Beckett near the end? Oh my golly. Tacked-on much. It just dragged an alreadyy dragging plot. And it was hardly as suspenseful as the opening where Tom and his family search for the outlaws who stole their pig. But even though I hated, hated this book for a long time, statistically speaking I enjoyed a majority of the book. I also hated a very large portion. Uggh. If you are going to write a 900+ page book, make damn sure it requires this many pages. This one could have easily been put into 500 pages with fewer douche-y characters, tighter plotting, and a larger focus on Philip....more

It's hard not to be aware that Scott Westerfeld is awesome. He wrote the Uglies trilogy (or is it called the Pretties trilogy?), which is made of WIN!It's hard not to be aware that Scott Westerfeld is awesome. He wrote the Uglies trilogy (or is it called the Pretties trilogy?), which is made of WIN! And he wrote Succession (an adult space opera), that is pretty flippin' cool. Midnighters? Peeps? Ok, I haven't read those last two, but it's more about not getting around to it, yet. He's just an awesome YA guy and and awesome SF guy (remember, SF is hipster for sci-fi (not to be mistake with SyFy (which is icky-sauce.)))

With Leviathan, Westerfeld, has done it again, seemingly upping the awesome. Like some sort of crazy mad scientist (I'm giving him a lot of credit, since he's technically not the first to do any of these things (but I digress)), he brings his skills of strong teen characters and adds a heaping helping of steam-punk and alternate history into another action-packed saga.

The story begins at the beginning of World War I, with the death of Archduke Franz Ferdinand (that's how WWI started), but from there Westerfeld's tale has some rollicking fun with history. He's replaced all the boring versions of countries that can be found in any ol' history book with Darwinists and Clankers. Clankers fight with huge armored machinery (think tanks that more robot than tank). And the Darwinists have used the ideas and theories of Darwin to create some amazing animal mutations (talking lizards and the flying whale airship of the title).

From their it's a little bit country (diplomacy and world politics) and a little bit rock 'n roll (elaborate air and land battles between Clankers and Darwinists.) It even comes with exquisite drawings from Keith Thompson that add to the richness of Leviathan's alternate world. Glad I started my year with it! ...more

It's been a few days since I finished this book, and promptly moved on to Beautiful Creatures. This one I picked up for a respite between volumes of tIt's been a few days since I finished this book, and promptly moved on to Beautiful Creatures. This one I picked up for a respite between volumes of the bulky, but super-mega-awesome, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel. And The Magicians may suffer from the completeness of the latter and the quick, lovey, mystery-packed former. That may infer that I didn't like it, I liked it quite a bit. However, I think my view of it may suffer by being read around the same time as two similar but better books (and I've only read 1/3 of Jonathan Strange, so my feelings about that could change too.)

So, here's what I like about The Magicians and why I'm glad the Alex committee picked it. There are a few problems I had with it, but I will leave those on the cutting room floor.

Quentin Coldwater is smart, lonely, and obsessed with the fantasy world of Fillory (think Narnia). He's preparing for his final year of high school and the upcoming rigors of an Ivy League education (fingers crossed.) He pines over his best friend's girlfriend and does close-up magic tricks to busy himself in-between getting straight A's and beyond. That is until he discovers the magic and wonder he's always escaped into is actually real. He's been invited to start classes at Brakebill's, a very elite school for magicians (think Hogwart's College.) But he soon finds magic isn't the awesome, ideal, fantastic art he's believed it to be. It's difficult and painful, and he has to study hard just to do the basic spells. The Magicians pays great respect to the fantasy that's come before it, very clearly tipping it's hat to Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, but it adds the cold-harsh reality of college, becoming an adult, and how our dreams and dream worlds may not be all they are cracked up to be.

(ok. I got a little wordy yesterday when I was writing that synopsis. So I quit and came back to the review today.)

So . . . while thinking about what I liked about the book last night, that's after I wrote the synopsis for this review, I realized it takes the darkness of the last 4 Harry Potter books to the next level. This book is considerably more dangerous than any of the boy wizard's adventures, but this isn't technically the story of a boy wizard and his friends. That's not to say The Deathly Hallows wasn't dangerous, Grossman just ups the ante in The Magicians. Magic in this universe is literally painful, and everything has to go just right, or it plain won't work. In the Potter series if a spell goes slightly amiss then hilarity ensues. In The Magicians if a spell is done wrong, well a magical beast is unleashed that may or may not eat the students.

Also, the characters here aren't automatically granted what they want. They have to work and struggle to become magicians, and I think that makes their journey in the end more heroic, more satisfying. Of course, some may argue that Quentin is a tool, and he is. But I connected with his loneliness. And he does work his tail off for everything he gets. He's not just some magical person who has always had the gift and will, without a doubt, defeat the enemy in the end. That's never a certainty. Not the way it is in the other books. That makes for more of a thrill when it comes to the end. We think we know the outcome, we want the "hero" to prevail, but it isn't a guarantee.

I like that. I like that it challenges readers in a different way. It wants them to believe in wonder, but not to take it for granted. It wants us to remember the world is dangerous, so why wouldn't other worlds be dangerous as well?...more

This is possibly my favorite title of any book of all time. It's a little misleading, although less so than the pink cover. But the pink cover led toThis is possibly my favorite title of any book of all time. It's a little misleading, although less so than the pink cover. But the pink cover led to some design quirks inside the book that I loved (DESIGN SPOLER ALERT: There are some pink pages.) To be fair, I love any book that is a little quirky, uneven pages, brown font, blue font, etc. Anyway, the title is on sort of misleading. It makes perfect sense, and it is a perfect title for the book. However, if a reader were to be expecting, say, robots, they'd be a little disappointed. Instead, this is a beautiful, restrained (a word key to its success) story of a friendship. Beatrice bounces from town to town; her father is always looking for better or different jobs as a professor. She doesn't really know how to relate to other kids her age. She also has trouble processing how she is "supposed" to feel in certain situations. For instance, in the beginning a hamster she hasn't owned for very long dies. She isn't particularly attached to the hamster, so she isn't really sad. This leads her mother to call her a robot. And that disconnect with her emotions and other people plays throughout the story. It's a story of identity. On the other side of the story is Jonah, who after his mother and twin brother died in a car wreck officially checked out from a social life. He's earned himself the nickname Ghost Boy. And so it goes. Two outsiders who bond over a quirky radio program and quickly begin spending most of their time together.This book is nice. It's main pro, it isn't a romance. These two share deep feelings for each other, possibly love, but no more than friends, very good friends. There is a great line where Beatrice is trying to describe their relationship and she says, "He's just my Jonah." Their friendship isn't easy either. Most of the characters are well-drawn, especially Bea and Jonah. They are complicated, so it should make sense that their friendship is complex and even frustrating. And it leads to an emotionally devastating ending, phrased well in the language of a robot and a ghost. I nearly cried.It is somewhat flawed, however. Standiford takes some bizarre, unbelievable twists through this book. The focus should be the friendship, but at times it veers into a totally strange mystery (without saying too much: someone who was thought to be dead, may not be. And there may or may not be a cover-up.) It's a curveball, and one I wasn't really willing to follow, but Standiford makes it work. Sort of. It is still bananas and I still have a problem with that plot thread, but her best quality, restraint, saves her. She does go balls-to-the-wall out there with it. She is tasteful, and does keep the friendship as the focus. Still, their friendship would have been more believable if she hadn't steered off the road for a bit....more

David Small, a renowned and respected illustrator, grew up in silence, literally and figuratively. In his new graphic memoir he recalls his childhood,David Small, a renowned and respected illustrator, grew up in silence, literally and figuratively. In his new graphic memoir he recalls his childhood, from being zapped with radiation to cure health problems to losing a vocal cord from cancer. His mother speaks in slamming cupboards and rattling plates. His father, a radiologist, speaks in punching bags, medical jargon, and the soft puff of his pipe. Small’s older brother, Ted, bangs on drums. And David colors pictures on the living room floor. They don’t say what needs to be said. They avoid each other, or more likely, ignore each other. A growth noticed on Small’s throat at age 11 isn’t operated on until age 14, and his family doesn’t even directly tell him it’s cancer until he inadvertently finds out and asks them about it. This is a book about familial communication at its worst.

However, as dark and depressing as it sounds, David Small’s Stitches searches for meaning beyond a pity party. It often finds humor, both dark and absurd, in Small’s chilling childhood (alliteration accidental.) A good amount of the praise for this book compares it to a silent movie. It’s an easy comparison; this family hardly ever has direct dialogue with each other. It is also a fair comparison. It isn’t hard to see the text as title cards in between scenes. They also help with the humor of the book, giving it the kind of absurd cutaway humor fans of Scrubs or Better Off Ted might enjoy. In particular, David’s mother tells the story of how his grandfather died by driving off a cliff. The text is put on the opposite page of a fairly hilarious panel of an upside-down car. Dark. But funny.

Then there is the not so funny. The sad. The terrifying. The sickening. This family doesn’t know how to communicate. Sometimes they choose not to communicate. There is a reoccurring theme of Small’s family pounding on things. Panels are filled with sound-effects. But no words. Ideas and feelings are being conveyed. They are, however, guesses. Small doesn’t know how his family actually felt. And neither does the reader. Small is only showing us how he felt in his dysfunctional home. And even admits in a short epilogue that he wishes he’d known more about his mother, who seems villainous much of the book. The most haunting image though comes during a trip to Small’s grandmothers. He breaks an unspoken rule, and she drags him by the arm to punish him. Small captures the anger and terror of that action with a single panel: his grandmother’s hand firmly around his skinny wrist....more

Anax is a young historian striving to join The Academy, a shadowy, important class of philosopher-rulers in a futuristic society called, the Republic.Anax is a young historian striving to join The Academy, a shadowy, important class of philosopher-rulers in a futuristic society called, the Republic. Anax chooses to spend her grueling four-hour entrance exam to discuss her hero Adam Forde, a rebel who caused wholesale changes in the Republic. She is questioned on his sordid past, asked to examine the ethical impact of his decisions, and implored to show how he’s impacted their society.

Beckett has written a fascinating book, short, yet surprisingly complete. It’s a thrilling page-turner, filled with political intrigue and post-war terror, but also a philosophical mental exercise forcing the reader to draw their own conclusions.

And the ending. Well, I won’t spoil that, but let me just say, it left me utterly breathless. It offers a twist, that may annoy some, but I saw the "twist" coming. It is the questions raised by the ending that make it so meaningful.

It’s maybe one of the best books I’ve ever read, and will certainly be rereading soon and often....more

Really, to me, Mockingjay is about a 3-3.5 star book, elevated by Suzanne Collins keen and rich portrayal of teens dealing with devastating events inReally, to me, Mockingjay is about a 3-3.5 star book, elevated by Suzanne Collins keen and rich portrayal of teens dealing with devastating events in their lives. I'm actually kind of surprised Collins doesn't write realistic fiction. The 3 Gregor the Overlanders that I've read were all wildly inventive, while remaining grounded in reality. The same can sort of be said for The Hunger Games, although Collins seemed winded in the third book. The first two games took all her SF/fantasy inventiveness, and she had to rehash it here. Don't get me wrong, she is a great writer, and it was a fun read, but if it were not for her humane treatment of her characters in infinitely delicate situations, I don't know if I would have finished it. That's a lie. I would have finished it, but maybe I would have finished it faster. I just didn't have the feeling in this book that I needed to find out what happened next, especially around part 3. I was actually sold on this being the best book ever, and then Collins hit a wall. Or I imagined her hitting a wall. Or I hit a wall and I am being unfair.I'd still like to see what Collins could do in the real world, instead of feeling like she needs some nerdy pyrotechnics to sell her readers on. Not that I mind the nerdy pyrotechnics, I am a bit of a fangirl (I choose not to call myself a fanboy, because that has pervy connotations. Hmm . . . I just realized that a 28 year old male calling himself a fangirl may also be a little pervy.)...more

Lena Duchannes is the new girl in Gatlin County, South Carolina, a place that hasn't changed much, and doesn't see many "new girls." Gatlin residents are still a little broken up about the Civil War. They don't care much for progressiveness. It's the kind of backwater town people want to leave, or that get trapped in and hacked to pieces by a lunatic. Ethan Wate is one of Gatlin's residents who would rather leave. His mother recently died, and since then him and his father barely speak. He reads to escape, something not many of his friends do. He does what is expected of him, although not with great pleasure. He's one of the basketball teams stand-out stars, but readers get the feeling he's only there out of obligation. He's even dated cheerleaders. But he wants more. And if you can't see where this is going . . . well, I'll tell you. Obviously, Lena and Ethan are meant to be together. Right? Well, as the back of the book says, "Some loves are meant to be . . . others are cursed."

This is the kind of book I never really saw myself getting into. I mean, it seemed awful Twilight-y from what I read. It is, indeed, a supernatural romance between a mortal and, because I don't want to ruin things, a not-mortal. It isn't, however, as girly or cheesesauce as that may sound. Part of that comes from the awesome decision to make Ethan the narrator. Sure, he's sensitive and falling head over heels in Nicholas Sparksian love, but he's also a guy and he isn't fawning, primping, gushing, and laughing in whispers over Lena. There's also a deeper mystery that shoots through the story, so 500+ pages aren't spent on how much these two love each other. There's danger, hatred, a wonderful cast of characters, which are real instead of quirky. Look at the slightly evil Uncle Macon, who looks like Cary Grant, but may be the most dangerous person in the book, except they spend time giving him more dimensionality. He isn't just written off as pure evil or as it turns out, pure good. He, even in his good moments, always seems like he may snap and kill the entire cast, giving his character an uneasy edge every time he appears in a scene. Also, the supernatural element in Beautiful Creatures is made more human. That is more human than a vampire. Vampires can die, but they don't seem real. It makes them hard, or creepy, to be attracted or connected to. Here, however, the supernatural character (it seems like that is supposed to be a surprise to I am bobbing and weaving from saying who or what) isn't ageless or immortal. So it isn't creepy. Also, they are always in just as much danger as the "mortal" character, making their power necessary to keep both characters safe. Ok. This is tricky.

What made me fall in love with this book was 1.)the believable, 3-dimensional (no relation to Avatar) characters and 2.)the beautiful writing. Stohl and Garcia have a way of intoxicating the reader with their prose. They take some of the girly away from the romance, and gave us an intense, epic thriller to grab on to....more

This could be a toss-up between a 3 or 4 star book. It's not really my venti cup of chai-tea latte. But it's also not "not really my venti cup of chaiThis could be a toss-up between a 3 or 4 star book. It's not really my venti cup of chai-tea latte. But it's also not "not really my venti cup of chai-tea latte." That is to say, I am sort of a sucker for romantic comedy that isn't to overly cutesy or girly. This is a little cutesy and a little girly, but not too much of either. In fact, it's its cuteness that ultimately won me over.

Essentially, the book relies heavily on a gimmick (its main character’s ability to match coffee drinkers based on their drink of choice.) But Kristina Springer doesn’t overstay her welcome with the cutesy gimmick, and she also makes it (and her characters use of it) seem plausible. It’s not a stretch to see something like this taking place in a bigger city. And the character’ view of how people are come off as believable. She’s not some world-wise teen who has seen it all, but she’s also not totally vapid. There’s a nice balance created in the character, which makes her a believable teenage heroine.

That isn’t to say that this is the greatest book I’ve ever read. It’s not. It’s a fluffy, by-the-numbers teen romance. Those looking for something with a little more substance, should probably look somewhere else. But those looking for a light, clever read with strong characters should spend the hour or two this one takes, and just enjoy themselves for a bit....more

Everyone knows the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina was devastating, especially to those in its wake. Most notably and visibly, we were treated to dailyEveryone knows the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina was devastating, especially to those in its wake. Most notably and visibly, we were treated to daily horror reports of the residents of New Orleans. The storied town was now filled with death and water, sadness and blame. During those days there seemed to be little hope.

Now artist Josh Neufeld has painstakingly spent the time to tell a more complete story of those living in New Orleans, before, during, and after the levees broke. The book follows six survivors, most of whom were still in New Orleans during the flooding. Some of them seem silly; a doctor sticks around because his house has survived storms for a century or more, yet others who stuck around for worse reasons are glad he did when he comes to their aid. But the devastation felt by them all is poignant, maybe none more so than the simple, even trivial, story of one survivor losing his comics collection, only to have strangers from around the country help him rebuild it after he has resettled.

NuefeldÂ’s style of drawing is simple, better than I can do, but not outstanding. Still, there are times when his simplicity helps to draw the reader more emotionally into the story. In particular, a few times throughout, there is a drawing of the huge front (squall?) of the storm as it prepares to devastate New Orleans. ItÂ’s absolutely terrifying being face to face with it, even if it is just a drawing, and not an overly complex one at that.

The thing that makes this book best though is its humanity. These people never seem like caricatures. And it never looks down on them. It is told with a journalistic remove, but the stories are so moving and complete, that we canÂ’t help but connect with these peopleÂ’s plight. I was most moved by the bookÂ’s correcting of news reports and how Â“the thugsÂ” depicted so negatively, were actually the most helpful and organized of survivors waiting around the convention center and Superdome. Also, while the end of the book does offer hopefulness, it is not a saccharine hopefulness, but a real one, tainted, but there....more

Sometimes I feel I'm a little harder on books I like a lot, than on books that I can see are written well and are fine stories, but don't have the eneSometimes I feel I'm a little harder on books I like a lot, than on books that I can see are written well and are fine stories, but don't have the energy and readability of something like The Monstrumologist. This is one of those books that I loved. Capitals L-O-V-E-D. However, there were things that I felt could be improved on, to the point that I felt nitpicky, because it was a heckuva ride.

It begins with author Rick Yancey receiving a stack of personal diaries from a rest home or museum curator (that part isn't really clear.) Yancey takes the diaries home, forgets about them, then comes back to them and is completely enthralled. The diaries themselves (well, the first 3) make up the bulk of the book. They are from a boy named William James Henry, who was orphaned at age 11, and came under the care of his father's employer, Dr. Pellinore Warthrop. Warthrop is a monstrumologist, someone who studies monster, and Will becomes his apprentice. Late one dark and dreary evening they are awakened by a terrified grave robber, Erasmus Gray. Mr. Gray knows of the rumors about Dr. Warthrop and has brought the body of a girl and a monster that seems to have died feasting upon her. This is how Dr. Warthrop and Will begin to hunt a pack of Anthropophagi, monsters who have been referenced in the works of Shakespeare and other classic texts. Will is a great character, scared, but not wimpy, always able to face fear head-on, without really thinking about it. And Warthrop is a prickly old man trying to train the young Will for the worst. Along the way they meet another monster hunter, Dr. John Kearns, a smart-alecky Brit, who may or may not be Jack the Ripper.

Like I said before, this is a great read. The prose is smart, but not too heavy. And it's packed to the brim with blood, gore, and plenty of action to keep things moving along at a brisk pace.

However, like I said, there were things that bugged me throughout. Yancey goes to great lengths to make the diaries seem real. The whole prologue and epilogue are painstakingly vivid in trying to make the book seem like a work of absolute truth (or Will Henry's truth, at least). However, once the book starts, it is very clear that this is a 21st century version of 1888. Will is a little too self-aware, and there are a few hiccups in vernacular. Both can be explained away because Yancey says he has changed some archaic grammar choices, and the journals were written by an older Will, after his adventures. But that leads to a secondary problem, Will (or Yancey) overuse a lot of the same descriptors, making each time they come up cringe worthy. One such instance: using the word ejaculated instead of said. It maybe happens three times in the book. The first time it seems silly. But by the third time it is silly. Why would someone claim to change archaic grammar, and then keep the word "ejaculate," with its present day connotation, more than once? Yancey, also, has characters continually call each other by their full names. I didn't live in the 19th century, and neither did he, but if that was really the way they talked then I am glad. Lastly, I remember reading a review of When You Reach Me from School Library Journal, where the reviewer talks about how Rebecca Stead uses subtle foreshadowing in her book and it is refreshing to not be beat over the head with it. If I had not recently read that review, I don't know if I would have noticed Yancey's Mack Truck-sized use of foreshadowing.

Nitpicky, right?

Especially for a book I thought was pretty dang rad. I didn't want to put it down it was so good. Seriously. Read it. And ignore my crabbiness....more

It's true . . . look at any other work of Zombie-ness in pop culture, and this will look like a blatant rip-off. The zombies are seen mindlessly returIt's true . . . look at any other work of Zombie-ness in pop culture, and this will look like a blatant rip-off. The zombies are seen mindlessly returning to shoping centers (Dawn of the Dead), an evil corporation accidentally set of the pandemic (Resident Evil), even the road trip aspect was seen in last year's Zombieland, there's also a little World War Z thrown into the mix. It isn't filled with new, creative, or clever ideas.

However, Don Roff and artist Chris Lane, make the infection and journal realistic. They also pack it full with beautiful, and graphic, artwork to detail the journey of Dr. Robert Twombly.

It's not the greatest Zombie work of art out there, but it should be somewhat satisfying to fans of the walking dead....more

in Tatsumi's autobiographical A Drifting Life, him and his brother have many conversations about what manga is, and Tatsumi's own experimentation. Tatin Tatsumi's autobiographical A Drifting Life, him and his brother have many conversations about what manga is, and Tatsumi's own experimentation. Tatsumi’s brother’s criticisms can be seen at work here. In The Push Man most stories are 8 pages long, but each panel is packed with significance. Here, the longer stories seem to sometimes languish in their openness. Maybe Tatsumi’s wish to be more cinematic hinders him somewhat, as the stories don’t seem as tight, or even as meaningful. That isn’t to say they are bad stories. He still captures the low-lifes in Tokyo struggling to meld the old with the new. He is a talented artist and writer, who packs his stories with more literary symbolism than any other manga artist I’ve read. These just aren’t as powerful as some of his other work....more

2. Think about the insufferable Will Grayson in context. He is depressed. Hiding his sexuality. His "best2nd review:1. I recommend this one on audio.

2. Think about the insufferable Will Grayson in context. He is depressed. Hiding his sexuality. His "best" friend pulls a hideous prank on him, hoping to force him out of the closet. And he has no support group.

3. He may be insufferable … but he should know … It Gets Better.

Old review:Ok . . . A Few Things Before I Begin:

1. This review will contain language. I don't typically curse, especially in reviews, but I am in the mood to curse today in this review. If you don't like cursing, don't read on.

2. I almost gave it 2 stars, but it redeemed itself.

3. I had impossibly high hopes for Will Grayson, Will Grayson, even though I am pretty sure David Levithan is one of my least favorite YA authors. My hopes were not met.

Alright, so most people reading this review probably know what it's about. For those who don't . . . in brief . . . Two separate high schoolers named Will Grayson meet unexpectedly on the streets of Chicago. Their lives become intertwined through a mutual friend. A fabulous musical is staged.

Now . . . as I said, I wanted to love this book, or, at least, like it a lot, but I didn't. More truthfully, I didn't like David Levithan's half of the book. To be fair, I am not 100% sure it was Levithan's section I hated, but I am about 98% sure.

Here's the problem . . . with the book as a whole, and with Levithan's section in particular.

Both Will Grayson's are insufferable pricks in the beginning. Both are jaded, they don't know how to deal with their situations, and they both deal with their emotions as little as possible. However, Green's Grayson has rules for how he deals with people, he isn't supremely cold, and he’s just distant so he doesn't get hurt. Levithan's Grayson is cold just for the thrill of being cold. He is a straight up asshole to everyone around him. He's not distant, he's a fucking jackass. People try to help Green's Grayson and he pushes them away but feels bad about it. People try to reach out to Levithan's Grayson and he pulls out a match, lights them on fire, and laughs while he warms his hands, then pisses all over the ashes. How am I supposed to relate to that? Or care about him? Few times in my life have I wanted to beat up a fictional character, especially when that character is a teenager. This kid is such a jag, that I want him to get his ass kicked. I get that he has problems, but he is soooooooooooo horrible that I absolutely do not care!

Green's Grayson may be a jerk at times. And he doesn't go through any of the life-altering or shitty things that Levithan's Grayson does, but at least he picks his friend's nose.

I read another review that claimed Levithan's characters are brutally realistic. Really? Because that's my biggest problem with this character and his other ones. They are forced kind of edgy. Like Levithan sits at his desk and thinks, "This character is going to be so edgy; he's going to give people paper cuts." They aren't realistic. They are one-dimensional, faux-hipster douche bags. They aren't edgy. Green's characters may all be the same, but there is honesty in their sameness. They are extensions of Green himself. Levithan's characters seem like Levithan wants to be cooler than he is, so he supplants that longing on his characters. There is nothing natural or real about Levithan's Grayson.

Which brings me to the final point I have to make: The two Grayson's treatment of Tiny, their big, gay friend. To Green's Grayson, Tiny is sometimes a pain in the ass, but sometimes friends are. Tiny is who Tiny is to Green. He's big. He's gay. He's Will Grayson's best friend, through thick and thin. Levithan's Grayson, however, treats Tiny totally differently. There are reasons for this. Tiny is this Grayson's first boyfriend, and he is struggling with that. But he is so cruelly shallow when it comes to Tiny's weight, that he can't be forgiven. He doesn't see the inside of Tiny. He dates him, but seems to hate how fat Tiny is. Nothing else is really mentioned when it comes to Levithan's Grayson's view of Tiny, except to mention he is a Fatty, etc. Seriously, I wanted to throw up thinking about how shallow Levithan is in his treatment of Tiny. Other things don't come up, or rarely do, and they always play second fiddle to disparaging remarks about Tiny's weight.

Seriously, why is Levithan's Will Grayson such a fucking jerk?

In the end, however, it is Levithan that leaves the story with its best, and most emotionally satisfying scene . . . The End. Just kidding, sort of. Levithan's Will Grayson may in the end realize that he is jerk. He may try to change that. We are left hoping that he is headed for the best. And his "stunt" in the end did have me cheering him and his journey to that place.

Green does a fine job of adding another John Green story to his cannon.

Levithan does little well. (What's the point of writing all in lower case? (oh to prove how hip and fucking edgy he is.)) However, Levithan does take his Grayson on a much bigger and satisfying journey, and salvages his bit of the book in the end. He's a skilled writer. Maybe I am just expecting too much of him.

Smith is amazingly smart. But she's also funny and honest and sometimes downright vulnerable in this collection of 17 essays. She works best, as an esSmith is amazingly smart. But she's also funny and honest and sometimes downright vulnerable in this collection of 17 essays. She works best, as an essayist, when she is mixing her superior intellect with a very personal vulnerability. Take her movie reviews, written for The Sunday Telegraph. We know she's smart, as seen in more impenetrable, and intellectually passionate essays like Two Directions for the Novel. It's hard to connect with that essay. But these reviews are funny and real, because she seems more out of her element talking about Mainstream film. We get her gut reactions, or her confusion over enjoying a factually one-sided liberal leaning film. As a journalist she knows she should be incensed, but her liberal brain just enjoyed the film so much. She's often very real in these essays, without ever being sentimental, or losing her intellectual passion, and that's what made this book so readable.

David Shields’s Reality Hunger is a difficult book. It’s brave and daring. I don’t know for sure, but it also might be too late or too early. Let’s juDavid Shields’s Reality Hunger is a difficult book. It’s brave and daring. I don’t know for sure, but it also might be too late or too early. Let’s just say it’s come at exactly the right time. And let’s not avoid it just because it’s difficult.

Reality Hunger presents itself as a credo for an artistic movement. Mainly it is facing head on our current obsession with “reality” television and our false identity of what is real. He looks to the fringe art movements, experimental fiction, etc., as a better barometer for reality than anything mainstream. He even defends James Frey, an author he isn’t particularly fond of. Shields is also clearly energized by the blur between artist and audience that is happening. He’s inspired by works like Danger Mouse’s The Grey Album. Even this work blurs that line, “stealing” heavily from many other artists to write this book. It comes off as its own mashup for a generation that wants everything for free without consequence.

Like I said, the heavy use of unattributed quotes makes for a tough read. But Shields’s book is an aspiring read for artists, especially fringe artists who are fed up with the mainstream. It also seems tailored for this generation. In his appendix he even says, “Reality cannot be copyrighted.” It’s an inspiring maxim that may annoy librarians, teachers, and the mainstream anything. However, with the rise of Youtube, Creative Commons, and more, Shields believes we may actually start seeing more creativity and personality in art. ...more

Before I started reading The Ask I was excited. But from the first sentence I knew I was in for a long haul, "America, said Horace, the office temp, wBefore I started reading The Ask I was excited. But from the first sentence I knew I was in for a long haul, "America, said Horace, the office temp, was a run-down and demented pimp." It's kind of funny, but it's trying so hard to be funny and clever. That's the whole book. Wordplay on top of wordplay on top of cleverness on top of cleverness. It all seems intentional. Lipsyte knows he's being super clever, and because he's aware of it, we should be aware of it too, which is supposed to make me hate it less. But I didn't hate it. I grew tired of it quickly. Still, I am not one to give up on books, and this one had some hilarious stuff, "My outburst was deemed hate speech, which called for immediate dismissal. I could hardly argue with them. I think it probably was hate speech. I really fucking hated that girl." LOL! So I kept pushing forward, impressed by the verbal run around, but only in the vast volumes (alliteration intended.) Then, every now and then, Lipsyte would offer some heartbreaking, stunning insight (rhyme not intended that's why I put two adjectives.) This one hit me pretty hard: "She was from the people who kept everything. I was from the people who rented everything for brief amounts of time."

But it never became more than a 3 star book for me. Except for the brief moment when it veered into the post-modern, and the main character Milo questioned if anyone would ever read a book about him. That made me laugh too. I wondered why I had followed Milo for so long. He's a tool. He's a good father, but he's also a perv and louse. He's not unlikable, but I never found myself rooting for him.

Then there's the big "satire" tag, which most people who like this book will toss around all willy-nilly. However, I ask, what is Lipsyte satirizing? Rich people? Schlubs? Our society? It's never quite clear. And it's never sharp or pointed enough to actual get any lasting digs, nor is it subtle enough to make me think about what may have been satirized.

Fine. Tell me I don't get it. But I didn't, and that is a flaw of the book and the author. I shouldn't have to work to figure out their vision so that I "get it." It's not compelling enough, or well-written enough for me to care....more

I can't tell you what this book is about, except that capitalism is a shady business. Mostly, it's about a group of guys and girls, who are all funny,I can't tell you what this book is about, except that capitalism is a shady business. Mostly, it's about a group of guys and girls, who are all funny, quirky and honest, who foresaw the subprime lending crash coming, along with the big banks and everything failing. No one would listen to them, and they got rich betting against what they saw as scams about to fall apart.

It is pretty confusing, all the asset-trading, betting, Wall Street talk, but Lewis tries his best to explain everything as well as he can. For most people, there will be a point when all the jargon is just too much. That part of it is dense and hard to decipher. However, he follows a group of characters throughout his narrative that make it a funny and interesting read.

Mostly what I came away with was this: the economic crisis was caused by a bunch of d-bags who were trying to make a buck by being seedy jags who take advantage of the poor and lower middle class. And then instead of being punished, the government bailed them out so they could keep being a bunch of jags....more

(I'm not posting this to our YA blog, so there is no synopsis. Just some thoughts I had. In random order. And not proofread (which I don't do anyway,(I'm not posting this to our YA blog, so there is no synopsis. Just some thoughts I had. In random order. And not proofread (which I don't do anyway, but need to do.)

I never read Ferris's first book, Then We Came to the End, but I get, from looking at reader reviews, he is either our greatest new talent or our worst.

I think he's somewhere in between, even if this book is only marginally similar. Again there is something called a sophmore slump, which this may suffer from.

I did have trouble getting into it. It has a strange premise, something that made me want to read it. Alright-Short Synopsis-Tim Farnsworth has a disease that causes him to uncontrollably walk. Doctors don't know what it is, or what causes it. It takes a physical and mental toll on him and his family. However, besides some absurd and strange flourishes, this is a fairly realistic book, examining how serious disease affects families, career, and personal relationships.

It's a fairly introspective book. It makes for a sometimes interesting book. Sometimes not. These aren't characters that Ferris makes us want to care about. Sure the situation is sad. And I don't not care about them. At worst I felt indifferent to them. Of course, there were a few times when I found myself quite invested in their struggles, especially Tim's wife, and her struggles and spirals. But, of course, early on Ferris teeters into making the wife a heartless jerk. By the time we are supposed to care about her, we (we=the reader who is not me) may have already turned off to her.

Then there is Ferris's (I think it is grammatically correct to write Ferris's, because he is only one person) style.

The style takes getting used to. His style manages to be both over and underwritten. It is not a text shrouded in metaphor and simile. But it isn't simple. It's complicated in the way people and our relationships are. It's complicated in the way diseases, the human mind, the human body, and science are. But it's also jarringly straightforward. That layer adds some of it's more enduring moments. I will never forget the end of page 80 (I am being mysterious), when Ferris, without his more pretentious or poetic leanings, punched me in the gut with his straightforward account of Tim's body being ravaged by his disease. It was absolutely gut-wrenching.

There is also the problem of sporadic pacing. Sluggish. Sluggish. Fast. Sluggish. Repeat. Sort of. It doesn't seem to be aware of pace, and isn't interested in a cookie cutter version of how a novel "should be." Now, I don't want to infer that the sluggish parts are not interesting. It's an introspective novel. And from time to time, those slower, quieter moments are perfect for delving into the characters and their minds and bodies and relationships. But sometimes, sluggish means boring. The fast parts aren't always exciting either, I just didn't know how to put the opposite of sluggish. It's just there are times when Ferris gets it right, and this was a book I didn't want to put down. Characters became people I wanted to be invested in. Their problems seemed real. And their journey was fascinating. Oh, and the character walks places, that helped the pace.

Sort of Spoilery ParagraphOf course, there are the very strange, and absurd, directions and images Ferris injects into the text. Swarms of honeybees in the winter attacking his office window. The murder case he's working on. Etc. Now the murder case is somewhat resolved by the end, but there are long stretches that the reader is left wondering about it. As for things like the bees, those aren't so easy. Ferris is subtle on those points. Tim may be a Job like figure, or those images may be caused by muscle fatigue, where his extra enzymes are causing hallucinations. But he doesn't give easy answers, which I like. But other readers may find . . . annoying.End of Sort of Spoilery Paragraph

There are things to love here. And to hate. But I say, just accept both and read the damn thing....more

Let me get this out of the way: I'm willing to admit when I've been had.That is to say, I don't think I am smart enough to comprehend Matthew B.CrawfoLet me get this out of the way: I'm willing to admit when I've been had.That is to say, I don't think I am smart enough to comprehend Matthew B.Crawford's Shop Class as Soulcraft. Thus, maybe he's proved his point.After all, am I not one of the "knowledge workers" he's trying to persuade toward craftsmanship, or the trades. Maybe my softness and quest for knowledge has made me less cognitively-capable of understanding this work. I sometimes notice myself slipping intellectually, even if I read every day, try to discuss ideas intellectually, and have a snobbish bent away from commercial movies. Maybe this is directly related to my unwillingness/unableness to be a master of my own "things."

So Crawford wins! I don't get his book.

But I have been recently soul-searching, looking at my life, and myinterests, in a more DIY, lo-fi aesthetic. I want to become master of myown stuff, which is why I felt I'd feel enlivened after reading this book. I love my current job, he wasn't going to dissuade me from that, and doesn't want to, but he does want to make a case for the enjoyment and general mental well-being that can come from working with our hands. It's that part I wanted to be inspired by.

However, Crawford is somehow exactly qualified to make this argument, hemakes his livelihood as a motorcycle mechanic, and overqualified, he has a PH.D. in political philosophy. It means the text, while perhapswell-meaning, is wrapped in the abstract ideas and verbosity that he issometimes rallying against. Now as a "knowledge worker" and someone who is constantly concerned about our dumbing-down as a nation, I found itrefreshing that he could speak passionately about the technical arts,which have fallen by the wayside in America, but also speak about it sophilosophically and intelligently. But for someone who is so concernedwith facing our things head on, and who makes such astute obsevations as"to be master of your own stuff entails being mastered by it," there isvery little that is tangible in this book. It's all very philosophical,which isn't a thing that can be faced, but only ideas that can be grasped(theoretically, not physically.) I also wonder, why someone so passionate about "the value of work," would spend the time to write a book "philosophizing" about it. After all, this book, and the pursuit of this book, seems an awful lot like "knowledge work." So maybe Crawford isn't entirely happy in his trade work, his manual labor. Maybe that's why he doesn't offer any solutions to the problem, except one abstract one calling for progressive-republicanism. That is, a "republican-progessive disposition would take its bearing from our shared potential to realize what is best in the human condition, and regard the conditions for its realization as a common weal this is not to be vandalized with impunity." Basically, if I am understanding correctly, we need to make better people to make a better world, by first making a better world. Anyway, maybe he doesn't give us a better solution because he realizes the hypocrisy of it. In writing this book, in this way, he realized that perhaps what he really wants is a better balance of "knowledge work" and manual labor.

Other random thoughts (Onion AV Club style):

*on Page 135-136 Crawford worries of putting out low-quality work, in this case abstracts of magazines, journals, etc., distributed to the InfoTrac system, and that low-quality work becoming acceptable because it exists. I have had this problem. I hate Taylor Swift, and her album Fearless. I think she is talentless, and there are actual works of art, musically, that deserve the recognition of a Grammy. Yet, her Grammy win gives her credence as an "artist," but also contributes to our dumbing-down by giving respect to something that is lower-quality "art." The same can be said for the crap that tops The New York Times Bestseller List, and the popularity of special-effects orgasms like Avatar. I think we should stand against low-quality becoming the norm, and I am with Crawford in this respect.

*On page 176, Crawford praises a Volkswagen manual written by John Muir in 1969. He is also at the same time crying out against current technical manuals, becaue they don't have a "human quality." They don't have this quality because they are written by technical writers. It strikes me that Crawford's own book, for me, had this kind of technical deliberateness and not it's own "human quality."

*Maybe I am unnecessarily sensitive, but I often felt Crawford was bothracist and sexist. No times are clear wether he is being either. But hegenerally speaks of men in the trades. And when he is talking about women, it is always (and women.) His racism is gentle, at the beginning he doesn't want to be compared to "Japanese sword-makers." Of course, he is calling Japanese sword-makers real craftsmen, while he only considers himself a tradesman. But he has other anti-Asian sentiments throughout, like when taking about the manuals above, that made my overly sensitive, overly pc hackles stand on end. It made me uncomfortable to say the least.

*A review on the book jacket by Reihan Salam calls Shop Class asSoulcraft, "[A:] stunning indictment of the modern workplace." I found this not to be true, and maybe it is because of Crawford's chosen "voice," that of philosophical handyman. He does often take aim at the modern workplace,cubicle life, but he never makes a direct hit, and never inspired in me any sort of disgust against that life. His "indictments" are always vague, more about capitalism's failures politically and economically, than they are about how "bad" it is to work in an office. Salam does note that Crawford shows how "our educational system does violence to our true nature." Here I think he is right. Crawford's aims at education are true, scary, and mostly dead-on. Teachers aren't given a chance to build their curriculums, children aren't given a chance to fail and learn from their mistakes, and we've taken reason out of the equation. These things are George Bush's fault. We've long been to concerned with making sure we help a child succeed, than in letting that child learn how to succeed on their own. We cut the umbilical cord at work, and then use it as a leash, so that when we "let go" in adulthood many feel directionless. Again, I don't have any solutions for these problems, Crawford offers few beyond "more shop classes," but he is the one writing the book and recognizing the problem....more

This book is like uh-mazing. It looked interesting, other people I know have liked it . . . so I had high hopes. And I started it and I thought, "Oh nThis book is like uh-mazing. It looked interesting, other people I know have liked it . . . so I had high hopes. And I started it and I thought, "Oh no! I built this up too much." It starts off a little rocky, and to be fair Pierson isn't the most gifted writer. His sentences are sometimes clunky. Sometimes. However, this isn't a book that requires gracefulness, or even a steady hand. It sometimes leaps out-of-control, yet it always feels in control and, here's the key to its awesomeness, authentic. The Boy Who Couldn't Sleep and Never Had To is about two boys, Darren and Eric, who bond over a gigantic sci-fi epic (10 movies, graphic novels, a book series, etc.) The draw, as the title may suggest, is that Eric can't sleep. He's never been able to. So he just doesn't. He spends his extra time learning about stuff. He also has pretty bad episodes of vivid hallucinations. So the boys share this secret and this bond and their love of geeking out super big time. And Pierson handles the characters so well that it's easy to just go with the "surreal" leaps this book makes. Both Eric and Darren feel like legit teenagers. Their friendship isn't easy, but it makes sense. They are outsiders, like we've seen in thousands of books about teenagers, but they don't whine about being losers or pretend they are better than everyone. They just exist and do what makes them happy. Those thoughts come up from time to time, but they don't permeate their every minute. And they aren't too masculine. Girls and boys will be able to connect with them, because we hang out with people like them every day (OK, Eric can't sleep and he is sometimes awkward, but we know those people too.) The only downside is the one major female character, Christine. She is fleshed out to some extent later in the book. Although, for the most part she feels like a plot device, part of that is intentional; part of it is Pierson not spending enough time to develop her better. Uh, I ran out of steam . . . and thoughts. Really it's awesome. Read it...more

NPR's Car Talk named The Yugo "the worst car of the millennium." It's considered by many to be a lemon. It was ugly and slow, and, compared to the resNPR's Car Talk named The Yugo "the worst car of the millennium." It's considered by many to be a lemon. It was ugly and slow, and, compared to the rest of the market, not many were sold in the United States. Yet it has earned itself a place in the American Zeitgeist. For better or worse, The Yugo has become synonymous with failure. However, author Jason Vuic paints a clearer picture of The Yugo in his book. It's a story of communism, cars, 80's excess, and more.

I picked this book up expecting an amusing history of The Yugo, which is considered by many to be one of the worst cars in history. I figured it’d be a good book for people interested in cars, and, with its Cold War time period, maybe a good read for wonks. As I was reading it though, a couple girls, who I never pegged as the book’s audience, told me it was cool I was reading a book about the Yugo. They both wanted one. It was surprising, but not confusing. I knew both were fans of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. Poor Nick has a Yugo, and, to no one’s amazement, it is a piece of crap. But along with it being a punchline of a car, it has earned some sort of indie cred with teens.So this book that I figured had limited appeal, but might focus on people I sometimes overlook as a librarian, showed it had much broader appeal. That’s a good thing, because I think this book is written less for car buffs and wonks, and more for someone looking for their nonfiction to be a little different.The Yugo: The Rise and Fall of the Worst Car in History does offer all the big moments on the timeline of the Yugo. It discusses why it probably failed. It looks at the manufacturing, and the political climate that helped, and hindered, the car’s distribution in the United States. However, it never gets bogged down in terminology or just stamping The Yugo as an absolute failure. Instead, it takes a pretty fun romp through all these different areas that influenced The Yugo coming to America. Sure people were wary of it because it came from a communist country, but they were the good communists. Yugoslavia had broken free from the Soviet Union, and hosted a pretty dang good Olympics to boot. What Jason Vuic really gets right in the book, though, is spending most of the book following Yugo America founder Malcolm Bricklin. Bricklin is a frustrating huckster, who spent a good deal of his time convincing people to invest in his big ideas, before going bankrupt and starting again. Yet, Bricklin has pluck. He always gets up and starts again. His continued failures are idiotic, but I still cheered for him throughout the book. The title tells you how history turned out, but Vuic somehow makes you forget about the Yugo’s failure. Instead, he gets you to cheer for the underdog, the unsafe, slow, ugly underdog. Maybe it’s the recession that’s given this car indie cred. Maybe its Michael Cera, David Leviathan and Rachel Cohn. Either way, I think this is an interesting, funny, thrilling book about a car that will appeal to more than just the usual suspects....more